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By T. R. Armstrong 





' That whole vast herd was coming toward us on the run. ' 




M. A. DONOHUE & Co. 

Chicago New York 



A FOREWORD 




enting this boo 

. tat< hi 
Days" much has been 
their enormous abundan 



d herd ol buffalo between ] 
Platl Republic that it 

not be estimate id that a 

far ; ide and ' thi 

hills were dotted with dark form in con 

tinu< for miles and miles. 

• ibing the abundai oi the 

old d u : in »nc< aid, < country 

Only those who have een 
lit the stories toM 
1'iitlif ill accotii: like 

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. what won done 

naddc 

Tin tells what the writer di< 

The 




THE AUTHOR 

THOS. R. ARMSTRONG 

As he appeared ten years after the Hunt. 

Copyright, 1918 
BY T. R. ARMSTRONG 

(A 11 • rights . reserved.) 




"Our Mutual Friend from Kentucky," 
As he appeared jo years after the Hunt. 



BUFFALO HUNT 




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My First Buffalo Hunt. 



CANTO I. 



June, eighteen hundred seventy four, 

I stood beside Arickaree* 
And saw its sparkling waters pour, 

In grandeur outward for the sea. 

A charming landscape was outspread, 

Beneath a dome of azure blue, 
While shimmering sunbeams overhead, 

Disclosed the glory of each hue. 

No fairer spot it seemed to me, 

Could e'er be found beneath the skies, 

Unspoiled by man, such scenery, 
An artist would most highly prize. 

Two companions, there were with me, 
One, a true type, of Southern grace, 

No truer friend, in need than he, 

Of splendid form, with handsome face. 

"Kentucky blood," and that the best, 

From the "Old Stock," flowed in his veins, 

And seeing him, you would have guessed, 
He was a Knight, or one who reigns. 

So noble was his poise of head, 

And graceful too — his dress was neat, 

"Proud Man!" you say, ah no, instead, 
He was a gentleman, complete. 

Kentucky then, of him was proud — 

For his, was famous ancestry, 
Their names and deeds, books' pages crowd, 

Which prove him heir, of Chivalry. 



*A beautiful river of "the plains." 



BUFFALO HUNT 



His wealth was ample and his mind 
With college lore was filled ; his style 

Was of the unassuming- kind — 
But best of all, he had no guile. 

He's living yet, so I am told — 
Away out West beyond the "plains," 

Whereon we hunted — mining gold, 
I trust he'll find, the richest gains, 

To compensate him, for his toil 

And patience : should he see these lines, 

Perhaps they'll stop him from his moil, 
To rest awhile beside his mines, 

And scan the more than forty years, 
That's intervened, since then and now, 

I'd say to him, "I've shed some tears 
Meanwhile — have wrinkles on my brow. 

I've not forgotten you, my friend, 

Through all those years that's come and gone ; 
Those distant days, enchantments lend, 

To reminiscent pictures, drawn." 

The other was a Plains-man old, 

And a "dead shot," 'twas said of him, 

Around our fires, the tales he told, 

Wrought on our nerves, by shadows dim. 

Of Indian raids and wolves' attack, 

He would our evening hours beguile — 

Perhaps our blankets would unpack, 
And note our torture, with a smile. 

Or from a "keg" he'd brought along, 

Of "inspiration"* draw enough, 
To dance a jig, or sing a song, 

And then "turn in" — oh ! he was rough 

*"An antidote for rattle-snake bite," the old man said. 



BUFFALO HUNT 



Apparently; but for a friend, 

His, was just like a woman's heart- 
Would die, if need be, to defend 
His honor, or take his part. 




"Old Captain Bang, our one-eyed guide," 
in his buckskin pants. 

He had one eye, — the other lost 

Fighting, with Red Men, of the plains, 

And if those Red Men, his path crossed — 
The wolves took charge of their remains. 



BUFFALO HUNT 



And when he after them gave chase, 
Both whip and spur, he then applied; 

His one eye brightened and his face, 
Lit up the valley and hillside. 

He never could them, quite forgive, 
For "blowing out his lamp;" he said, 

"I'll take thar scalps, long as I live 

And scare 'em, as a ghost — when dead." 

He'd follow deer or buffalo, 

Afoot or horse-back, weary hours ; 

Was not estopped by rain or snow, 

Nor, seemed aware of lessening powers. 

And when by his unerring aim, 
The quarry lay low at his feet, 

He'd build a fire beside his game, 
And then proceed, to cook and eat. 

For, often from the early morn, 

He'd ranged the prairies far and near, 

His only drink, "John-Barley-Corn," 
Its giving out, his only fear. 

And when the day was fully spent, 
'Round him his blanket he would roll, 

Beside his fire lie down content, 

And let "The Wild" have full control. 

"My Winchester, is my best friend/' 
He said — and called it by that name — 

"She will at all times me defend, 
And, keep my larder full of game. 

When redskins try my scalp to take, 
She never fails me at that time, 

When I'm asleep, she is awake, 
And always ready and in prime, 



BUFFALO HUNT 



She loves me more, than did a wife, 

She is the pardner of my joys, 
She seems, to me, a thing of life, 

Now this is true ; believe me boys. 

Some day my body, will grow cold 
In death ; that fact can't be denied, 

And this, I have, to some friends told, 
/ want her buried by my side. 

Who knows, but that will be for aye, 

While this old earth shall make her rounds? 

Maybe, there'll come another day, 

Upon some happy hunting grounds." 

CANTO II. 

One morning, in the early , dawn, 

We held a council for the chase, 
The prairie 'round, seemed like a lawn, 

With countless flowers on its face, 

With here and there a buffalo — 

Some bunches, now and then, appeared, 

Skirmishers there, which went to show, 
We were approaching the Main Herd. 

Never before, we boys had seen, 

The shaggy "Monarchs of the plains," 

Some of them fat, and others lean, 
But, Monsters all — and that explains, 

Why I felt wobbly in the knees ; 

And as with ague, then I shook — 
I looked around — there were no trees 

To climb ; in sight, no covert nook. 

We sure had reached the hunting ground, 
Where roamed the bison, free as air, 

And deer and antelope were found, 
Tn numbers great and everywhere. 



BUFFALO HUNT 



Soon the herd was growing bigger 

"Why don't you shoot?" our captain said; 

Ah! I could not pull a trigger — 

Three minutes more — and I had fled. 

Our old frontier's man raised his head, 
And cast his one eye on the scene, 

Then with his Winchester, he "led"— 
A lovely doe, dropped on the green. 




a . i .. 
lying lov\ 



"Some of them fat and others lea. 

Then bringing his "best frier- 1 

Upon a bunch of buffalo. 
She rang three times upon the 

And three "M anarchs" were 

Can you imagine what occurred? 

Above the roar made by that gun, 
Ten thousand times, that whole vast herd, 

Was coming toward us on the run. 

And from all sides, for miles around, 

It seemed an earthquake shook the ground, 

It rocked and trembled, till my spleen 
Was running quite, my whole machine 

As one at sea, when billows roll, 
And on the foam has poured his soul, 

So, by such feelings, sore distressed, 
I, gave up all that I possessed 



10 BUFFALO HUNT 

'Twas not the trembling, of the earth, 
That caused me to regret my birth, 

But 'twas my fright, that came so quick, 
Which made me then, so deathly sick. 

But low above, and over all, 

A cloud of dust hung, like a pall, 

The herd "was hidden from my sight, 
And day had given place to night. 

While cries of fear, were on my lips, 
The sun came back, 'from that eclipse, 

And in the light, made by the rift, 
/ got away with movements swift. 

A thunder storm with pounding hail — 
A cyclone, twisting in its gale, 

Ten avalanches in a row. 

And scores of blizzards flying snow — 

Were all combined — would seem as still, 
As an old graveyard, on the hill, 

Would seem as still? It would indeed, 
When as compared — to that stampede. 



Where was my friend from old Kaintuck, 
While those wild creatures run amuck ? 

Was by my side, when they began ! 
Why, he was one who also ran. 

Out-ran me to a wild wolf's den, 
Under a bank, close by the fen, 

And out of breath, was lying prone, 
Securely there, and all alone. 

I did not wait for him to say, 
''Come in and visit me today," 

But to his body stept inside, 

And found a chamber long and wide! 



BUFFALO HUNT 



11 



Not high, but there was standing room, 
And soon I saw amid the gloom, 

Some treasures which you ail would prize- 
While other things there met my eyes — 

Which being there, mute witness gave, 
That we were in a robber's cave, 

And not the den of a wild beast — 
Some rendezvous to say the least. 




The Author Giving Public Readings of His Hunt 



A mass of dollars, hard as rocks ! 

Were half concealed within a box ! 
And as some passed, my hands between, 

My eyes were dazzled, by their sheen. 

Then as my fears began to rise, 

That we might meet with a surprise, 

Which we'd not reckoned on before — 
A shadow fell, within the door ! 



12 BUFFALO HUNT 



I whispered to my friend, "Arise, 

We'll soon be butchered here as spies, 
We are entrapt, in this vile den, 
• And ne'er will see our homes again." 

Great Daniel Boone ! ! He sprang upright, 
And in his eyes, there came a light, 

That drove the darkness there away — 
He seemed like a wild beast, at bay. 

His face was pale, but not from fear, 

He'd past that stage, which had been near, 

Determination, by his look, 

Could then be read, as in a book. 

His flashing eyes were cast around — 
Grabbed his repeater from the ground, 

Quick at full cock, the hammer hung, 
His finger to the trigger clung. 

Again, a shadow crossed the hole, 

A human form therein-at-stole, 
Then, "young Kentucky" showed his blood, 

As in stern tones, came out this flood. 

"Lie down-, you dirty dog" — he said, 
"Or I will fill you full of lead, 

If you attempt to raise your gun, 
Your race in life is fully run." 

I stood in horror, cold as ice, 

And tried to speak then, once or twice, 
But not a sound, in my distress, 

And there ! I lost all consciousness. 



CANTO III 



When I "came to," there by my side, 

Were my true friend ; our one eyed guide, 

Who by their efforts — those two men, 
Had brought me back, to earth again. 



BUFFALO HUNT 



13 



"You's scairt to death," our captain said, 
As gainst his knees, I leaned my head, 

"And Kaintuck thar, a hour ago, 
Scairt me to death, or nearly so. 

Ah ! never in my life before, 

Had I approached, so near the shore, 
Of the unknown-^the border-land. 

When I complied, with his demand. 




"Them Injuns Claim We Have No Right. " 

Fer in the dark, I couldn't see, 
The one who had just spoke to me, 

But from his tones, I knowed quite well, 
I'd better to lie down a spell. 

I felt thar, was but one choice — 

I did not recornize his voice, 
But when I shouted, Do not shoot! 

He recornized, this old Galoot. 

And then he rushed to me and said, 
'You're not a robber, but instead, 

My dear old friend. Our Captain Bang — ' 
Then this yer cave with gladness rang'. 



14 



BUFFALO HUNT 



He kindly raised me to a seat, 

Knocked off the dirt, down to my feet, 

His arms around my neck, he flung, 
And like a lover thar he clung, 




"That Red Cloud is a Sly Old Fox" 

Beggin' my parding for his act, 

(Which would have been my death in fact, 
If I'd not tumbled at his call, 

And throwed my gun against the wall.) 



BUFFALO HUNT IS 



His arms, then gently, I unclasped, 

With my right hand, his own I grasped, 

And said, my friend, you're not to blame, 
In your place, I'd a done the same. 

With these surroundin's, as they air, 
To enter here, would be a bair, 

To anyone, who this way wends, 

Unless I knowed, all war my friends. 

And then I said, Where is the boy? — 
Your pardner, out from eelinby?* 

Was he run over by the herd? 

And then my sight was kinder blurred. 

Caused by the thought, you might be crushed, 
In that wild storm, as on it rushed, 

I blamed myself, that you two boys, 
Had tried to outrun that'ar noise. 

I should have told you what to do — 
To stay by me, I'd see you through — 

Almost sure death, to one who runs 
In a stampede ; stand by your guns, 

And if the mob bears down on you, 

The only thing fer you to do, 
To save yourself (upon my word) 

Shoot quick, at leaders of the herd. 

Pour into 'em a full broad-side, 
And that will cause 'em to divide, 

Into two columns — and around 

You, thar will be a strip of ground, 

Quite wide enough, you may depend,_ 
"'To give you breathin' room, my friend; 
And that is just the thing I done— 
They kep' dividin' on the run. 

*The author is a native of Illinois. 



16 



BUFFALO HUNT 



And jumpin' side-ways left and right- 
Oh Boys ! it war a purty sight, 

To watch 'em bowin' thar to me, 
As if to say, 'Good Bye' — you see? 




"And Spotted Tail in Feathers Full." 

Thar tails, fer banners, rose and fell — 
A wavin' me. 'Farewell, Farewell.' — 

Thar's nothing more, could me amuse, 
As / returned thar kind 'Adieus.' 

I kep' a pumpin' my best friend, 
Until she had no more to send, 

She failed to kick and then I seen, 
I'd emptied her whole magazine. 



BUFFALO HUNT 17 



I didn't need no more — at last, 
That panarammer then was past, 

And I begin to look around, 

To see, if you boys, could be found. 

I hunted 'long that marshy place, 
But seemed I couldn't git no trace 

Wharby, to find you — bless you soul ! 
Until I tumbled in this hole." 






CANTO IV 



While he was talking thus, to me, 
Our mutual friend, from Kentucky, 

Had left awhile, the cave to rove — 

And soon he'd found my Treasure-Trove. 

His eyes were still a shining bright, 

But with a diff'rent kind of light, 
From that they had an hour before, 

When Death seemed standing at the door. 

And then he said, "My friends I've found 

A fortune, as I looked around, 
In this old cave. Now come with me 

And I am sure you will agree — " 

Just then from the out-side — Bang! Bang! 

While scores of guns in chorus rang, 
And with the roar — an awful yell! 

(Like Demons just let loose from — Mexico.) 

We all three ran toward the door, 
But Captain Bang was in the fore, 

And looking round, bade us return, 
Till he could 'sbmethin' f ureter learn.' 



18 



BUFFALO HUNT 



He soon came back and with a smile 
Said, "We will here remain awhile, 

Two Indian tribes, out thar, have met, 
And had a 'scrap' — air fightin' yet. 




"Chief Sitting Bull in Feathers Fall." 

One tribe's Pawnee, the other Siou, 
And they are both good fighters too, 

They air well matched, but Chief Red Cloud, 
Is at the head of the Siou crowd. 

I also saw Chiefs Settin' Bull, 

And Spotted Tail, in feathers full, 

Along with Red Cloud and his band, 
And lendin' 'em a helpin' hand. 



BUFFALO HUNT 19 



That Red Cloud, is a sly old fox, 

He'll give them Pawnees, some hard knocks 
Before it ends; I'm not surprised 

That he is nghtin' undisguised. 

Fer, he strikes terror to the hearts, 
Of redskins found, around these parts, 

The' Otoes run, if him they see, 
But that's not so with the Pawnee. 

Fer he's as brave and cunnin' scamp, 

As ever carried scalps to camp, 
They'll give them Sioux a real 'Ghost-Dance' 

If only they, have half a chance. 

I'd like to leap into that fray 
And raise some scalps ! What did you say ? 
"Don't leave you boys?" No, I'll stay whar 
I am until the. coast is clar ; 

I mout git killed! Then what of you? 
Whar would you go? What would you do? 
With them red rascals harabout, 
They'd kill, or capture you, no doubt. 

And of the latter 'tis their law, 
To make you marry, some young squaw, 
And should you have a promised bride, 
She would be humbled in her pride. 

To larn a Minnie haw! haw! sprout, 
Had over-reached, and 'Cut her out' 
Them laughin' gals, enjoy such tricks, 
They with the pale-face love to mix. 

Although oft-times, it shows poor taste, 
They'll jump the broomstick, in great haste, 
And that's the reason, now and then, 
You see them fellers, called c Squaw-Meri. 



20 BUFFALO HUNT 



I once was ONE, but am ashamed 
To tell it; but should not be blamed, 
Fer livin' near 'em, when quite young, 
I larned to talk in their own tongue. 

And when arrived to man's estate, 
A Ha ! Ha ! maid became my mate, 
She was the daughter of a chief ; 
And purty, too, past all belief. 

Light-hearted as the birds that sing ! 
Hair, as black as the raven's wing! 
Teeth, white as pearl, and eyes that shone 
Like diamonds from Victoria's throne !" 



Right there, the old man bowed his head, 
And {seemingly unconscious) said, 

Twas — long — a-go — seems — yes-ter-day, 
She — from — my — zvig-wam — went — a-zuay. 



Quick changed his features to disdain! 
And harshly spoke to hide his pain, 
"But what's been said is over much, 
Upon that subject, we'll not touch"* 



*He never mentioned it again nor (prudently) did we; 
but from another source learned that she eloped with a 
young and powerful Chief of another and distant tribe. She 
became infatuated with him while he at times was visiting 
her father, concerning tribal matters. Her duplicity embit- 
tered our old guide against the whole Indian Race and he 
became its implacable foe. He led a wild life on the frontier 
and excelled as a Buffalo hunter and Indian fighter. Rising 
to a captain's command in the war between the states, he 
rendered efficient service to the government by his knowl- 
edge of Indian warfare and great plains of the West at that 
time. 



BUFFALO HUNT 21 



Should we be found in this old den, 
Surrender not, but die like men, 
As fer myself, I'll git a few, 
Before I bid this world adieu. 

The days ahead of me, dear boys, 
Are few to count, and fewer joys, 
But e'er they end, I'd like to find 
The VERY ONE, who put me blind. 

I shore would quickly douse his glim, 
If ever I git sight of him. 
And if I knowed that he's out thar, 
I'd go right now and lift his har. 

Them Injuns claim we have no right, 
To this their land, so us they fight, 
And when white men, in hunts engage, 
It shorely makes them heathens rage. 

You asked me once, Why that Stampede. 

It was the noble ( ?) redman's deed — 
Back many miles they made the charge, 

Upon that herd, you saw so large. 

And scairt the critters (plain to see) 

Over on the Arickaree, 
And doin' it, they made such fuss, 

They run 'em over onto us." 



By this time night was falling fast — 
'Twas growing dark within the den, 

The roar of guns had ceased at last, 
And we were tired and hungry men. 

Old Captain Bang then rose, and said, 
"We must have somethin' now to eat, 

Since early morn, we have'nt fed, 
And you are both worn out complete." 



22 



BUFFALO HUNT 



'Worn out ?' ah ! we were sick and tired, 
And scarcely able to stand up, 

That strenuous day, just 'bout expired, 
Had furnished us a bitter cup. 

I could have eaten a raw mule, 
It seemed to me / zvus so faint, 

I scarce could rise from the old stool, 
Whereon I mourned out my complaint. 




"It was the Noble (?) Red-Man's Deed. 

"Them hosses boys I cla'r forgot, 
I left 'em in that old stockade, 

Run, down and see, fer like as not, 
The redskins on 'em made a raid. 



I'll have some supper, for you sure, 
When you come back upon the hill, 

And that will all your troubles cure, 
When you have et it to your fill. 



BUFFALO HUNT 23 



I've cut from out a buffalo, 

The finest steak you ever et, 
'Twas just about ten hours ago — 

The time you lads will not forget. 

We'll camp close by them critters, killed 
By me, before that big stampede — 

In servin' wild meat, I am skilled, 

And you shall have one great big feed!' 

Thus spoke our hardy Pioneer, 
Then as he left us there, he said: 

"Them skunks have went, you needn't fear, 
Them thar thets left, fer they air dead." 



CANTO V 



An half hour later we returned, 

From the stockade, hard by the stream, 

And on the hill a hot fire burned, 

Which cooked a meal "that was a dream." 

Full justice can't be done in verse, 
To such repast: such tender steak! 

Such juicy steak!! No rich man's purse, 
Could purchase better; and the cake, 

Made of corn-meal and baked on coals — 
Those glowing coals ! yes, angel food, 

I'd eaten, and the sweetest rolls 

E'er baked; yet nothing half so good, 

Had ever passed within my lips — 
It thrilled me to my finger tips; 

Indeed both, were most nourishing, 
With clear cold water from a spring. 

I quickly lay upon the grass, 

And stretched my feet toward the fire, 
Nor cared for what might come to pass — 

To sleep, was my one great desire. 



24 BUFFALO HUNT 



I heard the wolves' discordant howl, 

Along the stream not far away, 
Also the mountain lion's growl, 

As he was feasting on his prey. 

From fear of wild men, or wild beast, 

Henceforth I was to it immune; 
O'ercome by fatigue and the feast — 

Was wrapped in slumber, very soon. 

Next morning, Captain Bang prepared, 

A duplicate, of night before, 
For breakfast; but, for it I cared 

Nothing — my appetite was poor. 

We went out where the fight had raged — 
Where Siou and Pawnee warriors bled, 

And for sometime, we were engaged, 
In looking 'round among their dead. 

A tomahawk was here and there, 

Some bows and arrows (strings were gone), 
A scalp or two, with long black hair, 

Some useless guns, still further on. 

Creech-clouts, robes, blankets, feathers, beads, 
And necklaces, of bears claws made. 

Some moccasins among the weeds, 
And tepee poles, of every grade. 

One Indian among some trees, 

Where he had crawled, our Captain found, 
His tribe, he said was the Pawnees — 

It seemed his, was a mortal wound. 

He asked our guide, to give him drink — 
Twas very faint, he was so weak, 

He was just hovering, on the brink 
Of the beyond — could hardly speak. 



BUFFALO HUNT 25 



But the old man his language knew, 
(Could speak it as his mother tongue,) 

Down to the stockade then he flew, 
And wide, the keg's old faucet flung. 

And while he was away, I ran 

Down to a spring, beside the stream — 

Got some water, in a tin can 

(That measured grain for our guides' team.) 

But Captain Bang was back, when I 

Returned, to quench that poor man's thirst; 

Poured down his throat some of his "Rye" — 
Which he "allowed, would be best, first." 

And then I gave him water — pure 

As God gave it, to every Race, 
And for a time, we felt quite sure, 

That he'd survive; but soon, his face 

Gave evidence, his end was near ; 

He looked intently, at our guide, 
But as his words were hard to hear — 

Old Captain Bang knelt by his side. 

The Pawnee said, "I fight with you, 
Some long ago, down further East, 

It was on river, Little Blue, 

Where tribe was holding a big feast. 

The pale-face take our land and game, 
We have no place wherein to live, 

My tribe is nothing now — but name, 
But all is past, I will forgive. 

Great Spirit calls me now ; and soon 
My tribe on earth, will not be found; 

'Twill not be very many moon, 

'Till meet, on our own hunting ground. 



26 BUFFALO HUNT 



You now heap scalp me for that eye, 
I take — from you in fight — that — day, 

My — squaw and — pappoose both — have die, 
And — I — with — them — shall — be — away." 

His lips were dumb, his eyes were closed, 
(Our Captain gently raised his head) 

At once his stalwart form, reposed 
In, dignity, and — he was dead. 

As he lay there, his mighty frame, 

Bespoke the strength, of once his tribe, 

These ''Plains" were his, so was the game, 
He, at his death, tried to describe. 

We felt condemned ! He had complained 
Of great wrongs borne by the red men, — 

Far back as when the Caesars reigned, 

They owned this land— and NOW as THEN. 

God's Word contains a better law, 

Than mortals make for life's short span, 

Which, by compare, we clearly saw, 
"Mans inhumanity to man.' 1 

We briefly there, in silence knelt, 
While tears a down, our faces ran, 

For, in Death's presence, we three felt, 
That this was our own brother man. 

We buried him beside the stream, 
Where weeping-willows sadly wave ; 

And where the fire-flies' nightly gleam, 
Lit up our pathway, by his grave. 

Old Captain Bang, was changed all o'er, 
And 'mong the hunters, it was rife, 

"That, beside that lone grave, he siuore, 
He ne'er would take a human life." 



BUFFALO HUNT 



27 



Soon afterward our brave old guide 

"Passed in his checks." In sleep profound, 

He, with his "Best Friend" by his side, 
Awaits "Some happy limiting ground." 

* * * * * 

You ask what of that "Treasure," found 
In that old den, far under ground? 

Oh ! that was nothing you would crave — 
// zvas a counterfeiter s cave. 



The end of my first Buffalo Hunt. 




BUFFALO BILL ON HORSEBACK. 




William Frederick Cody was born in Scott County, Iowa, 
February 26, 1846. His father was killed in the "Border 
War" in Kansas. He was a pony express rider in 1860 and 
1861 and a government scout and guide and a member of 
the Seventh Kansas Cavalry from 1861 to 1865. March 6, 
1886, he married Miss Louisa Frederici. Mr. Cody contracted 
to furnish the Kansas Pacific railway with all the buffalo 
meat required to feed the laborers engaged in construction 
and in eighteen months, 1867 and 1868, he killed 4,280 buf- 
faloes, earning the name "Buffalo Bill," by which .he is 
best known. He was a government scout and guide from 
1868 to 1872, serving in operations against the Sioux and 
Cheyennes ; was a member of the Nebraska Legislature in 
1872 and joined the Fifth Cavalry as a scout in 1876. In 
the battle of Indian Creek he killed Yellow Hand, a Cheyenne 
chief, in a hand-to-hand fight. From 1883 to 1913 he was at 
the head of a Wild West show. He was judge advocate 
general of the Wyoming National Guard. 



Buffalo Bill's Latest Photograph 




Col. W. F. Cody (Buffalo Bill) died January 10th, 1917, 
in Denver, and his body was placed in a receiving vault 
until Sunday, June 3rd, when it was transferred to its last 
resting" place in a grave blasted from solid rock on top of 
Lookout Mountain, twenty miles from Denver. 

More than 10,000 people went from Denver to Lookout 
Mountain by automobile and electric train. For hours before 
the ceremony at the grave there was a steady procession of 
automobiles winding up the mountain side toward the sum- 
mit. Several thousand persons who had gone by trolley to 
Golden, at the foot of the mountain, climbed steep trails or 
trudged along the automobile road to Wildcat point, where 
the burial was held. 

The ceremony at the grave was not elaborate, only the 
Masonic ritual being used under the direction of the Golden 
Masonic lodge. A delegation of Knights Templar from 
North Platte, Neb., where Col. Cody held his membership, 
acted as an escort. 



The three following articles called "Machine Verse" Were 
written for the Author's Drug Journal, and published 
therein. The author of this book * 5 a pharmacist, and 
these three are his observations in that profession. They 
have no bearing on the Buffalo Hunt, but are thrown in 
for good count for his brother druggists. 



A DOCTOR'S EXPERIENCE. 

The worn physician laid his head upon his pillow clean 
and white. "Here's where I rest," he drowsily said. "I'll 
have a good sound sleep tonight." And 'mid his drap'ry 
cool and soft, he dreamed of sweet Elysian bowers, but 
soon his 'phone rang loud and oft, which called him from 
its scented flowers. 

"Is this the Doctor Quickam's 'phone?" 
"Yes ; this is Doctor Quickham, too." 

"Well, come at once, for I'm alone and near death's door. 
—Phil Mickadoo." 

The doctor sprang into his car and cut the air ten miles, 
or more. The night was dark, for every star was hidden 
by the clouds all o'er. 

And soon the rain began to fall with blinding lightning 
all around ; the stoutest heart it would appall, but Mickadoo's 
the doctor found, and soon had him in quiet sleep. To be 
prepared, should Phil grow worse, he watched the hours 
slowly creep to morning's dawn, as would a nurse. The 
patient woke and then he cried : "Your face looked like an 
angel's then, I'll double pay you for that ride. How glad 
I am that you came out and saved my life right here last 
night, for there was no one hereabout to help me in my 
awful plight. And now, dear doctor, just as soon as I can 
ride down to the town I sure will crave it as a boon to pay 
you fully, spot cash down." * * * 

Twelve months or more had passed and Phil, who'd often 
sought the "lower levels," said when the doctor sued his bill, 
"His old face looked just like — Mexico." 

The inference we may draw from this — to leave out here 
'twould be amiss — Chameleons can change their hue, and — so 
did Phil his point of view. 



THE TRAVELING QUACK. 

Old Doctor Quackem has come down— got the parlor at 
our hotel. Now all Neurotics of the town will flock to him 
to make 'em well. Testimonials by the score, of those he's 
cured in days that's gone, are lying thick, on each porch 
floor, or scattered out upon the lawn. 

They tell the tooth-less, old and gray "While there is life 
there still is hope," (if they will only come dock's way) and 
take a portion of his dope. So out comes Limpy on his staff 
and old Dad Wheezy down the pike, and old Miss Grouchy 
had to laugh to see the dozens his way hike. 

"How's your bowels? Let's see your tongue?" then feels 
their pulse (Woks very wise). When all these changes he 
has rung, then to his old valise he flies. Some of their 
necks he fills with swill and others— stuff, in powdered form; 
to some weak sister gives a pill, "which is to keep her stom- 
ach warm." "Elixir of eternal youth," the doctor (?) says, 
and when he's done, although his language is uncouth, the 
hearts of all he there has won. 

Old Quackem now presents his bill. To each it is, "Ten 
dollars, please." His liquid dope— aqua distil— powders and 
pills — limburgcr cheese. 

Our old Neurotic's hard earned plunks, Dock Quackem 
quickly stores away. His smiles and thanks bestows in 
chunks and bids them one and all "good day." Old Barnum 
was quite right. He said, "The people like to be humbugged." 
They rush to strangers to be bled, especially, when to be 
drugged. 



THE DRUGGIST HELD UP. 

"Throw up your hands," the robber said, as he drew forth 
his gun, and pointed at the druggist's head, who had not 
time to run. "I've waited long outside your door to catch 
you all alone; the rushing traffic in this store must make 
your drawer groan. I am a Count in this disguise and I am 
come to wed an heiress in New York; surprise now seems 
to fill your head. But I must have a little mon, to last till 
I am tied to her vast wealth; tomorrow's sun will show her 
as my bride. That wad in your cash register, you must 
transfer to me, and to oblige me now, kind sir, move with 
celerity. Did you not hear? Step lively, now, or by Saint 
George I'll shoot. Delay means death to you'I vow — come, 
out quick with that loot!" 

The deaf old druggist put one hand behind his north-east 
ear, and shouted : "I can't understand, your words I fail to 
hear. Come nearer, so that I may catch the import of your 
woe, or better still, on this pad, scratch it down, so I may 
know, then I will help you all I can — you've come to the 
wrong place, for this is not a pawn shop, man ; now what's 
that on your face?" The hold-up was thrown off his guard, 
the pad took with a frown ; the druggist promptly landed 
hard and knocked the rascal down. Then his artillery he 
took and tossed it to one side and sent some "sweet words" 
by the "Crook" to his intended bride. He pasted. him a few 
times more, when "hold-up" gained his feet, and straight- 
way shoved him to the door and kicked him in the street. 
A Cop arrived about that time (for Coppers never fail to 
come along — after the crime) and took that pad to jail. 

Moral: — Now foot-pads, you should all refuse into such 
traps to fall. That druggist quickly planned a Ruse — He was 
not deaf at all. 



TAI O 



buffalo in t 



le world is now owne 



to be 
purcha 



>ver the 
part linwright, a city 

mi 

n if the bison were 
id before American it they had 

600 fro 1 Pablo 

•tected them near Ravalli. 

rhe histoi irgest in the world, 

in captured 
four little bison calves by i impeded 

n the Flathead reservation ii 

question gave them to the Mission of St. 

they were kept became as domesti- 

lly increased in number, 

xl, finding the care 

the mission > sell them. 

>r $250 •■ Pablo, who was 

of what was even 

animal would eventually become \ 



\BLO MADK A FORTUNE. 

ie her> ased under n, and in a few 

prices, 
■rank Oliver, thei ter of the 

ut an O] 
ior $200,000. T« 
s 2,077. 

RANGE OF 107,00' 

the reserve the 
Their stamp- 
107,000 acres — 165 square n 
miles in an air line the longest way an 

:e miles long 

' nffalo paradie. The grounds 

days they have been a favorite 
monarchs of the pi \ where are out- 

of old buffalo trail*? -md walld 



'Almost sure death to one who run. 
a stampede; stand by your guns V 



u<& 








1 'We got away with movements swift. " 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

iiunmiii 

018 603 304 8 



